


Midoriya Izuku; The Doomslayer.

by VolatilePyromaniac



Category: Doom (Video Games), 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: BAMF Midoriya Izuku, Blood and Gore, Midoriya Izuku Does Not Have One for All Quirk, Midoriya Izuku Is The Doomslayer, Midoriya Izuku Rips And Tears, Overpowered Midoriya Izuku, Quirkless Midoriya Izuku
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-19 14:21:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20319739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VolatilePyromaniac/pseuds/VolatilePyromaniac
Summary: Digizuku finds himself in the world of DOOM.





	Midoriya Izuku; The Doomslayer.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RogueDruid (Icarius51)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icarius51/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Locked In Digital](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17292761) by [RogueDruid (Icarius51)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icarius51/pseuds/RogueDruid). 

> So this was a plot bunny that I just HAD to write out. Hope you enjoy!

Izuku hated the feeling of starting a new game. There was always something new, something different that he had to adjust to, the changes were very subtle, but something that his heightened senses still found jarring. Thankfully though, All the games he’s played thus far had afforded him a certain grace period, whether it was a few seconds, or a few minutes.

Today, it seemed, he had no such luck. 

His sharp emerald eyes startled open, Izuku awakening into this new game with a Hypnic Jerk.

Midoriya faintly registered the fact that he was in a supine position, resting on a cool slab of marble, his wrists bound. He barely had time to shift into uncomfortable sitting position before his instincts screamed at him, warning him of a nearby threat.

He jerked his head to the side, watching a humanoid…thing quickly approaching him from the right. His eyes, Analytical in nature, and honed through combat, quickly picked apart at all the creature’s details. Leathery bloated skin, deformed to the point that it had ripped through the once human’s clothing, a single orifice in the head, with no sign of an ocular organ anywhere, and a set of rotten, sharp human teeth.

Faintly, he recalled the visage of Slender, how effectively his teeth had ripped his fragile, unassuming body apart.

He found no fear in his system, only **rage**, an aggravated growl escaping his throat.

Izuku pulled at his bound right hand, steadying himself with the other so that he could more effectively apply force to his decrepit chains. The chains hissed, a metallic scraping echoing out through his ears as he pulled harder and harder, and the creature drew that much closer.

“I’m not dying like this, Fuck you!”

He pulled, and the chain snapped; The greenette immediately using his arm’s momentum to backhand the creature, momentarily stunning it. His body lurched forward, his hand gripping the side of the mutated human’s head, his thumb buried deep in that bloodied hole that he assumed used to be the creature’s eyes.

It’s teeth clicked, and his arm flexed, slamming the creature’s head against the side of the marble slab, he expected to hear a crack of a shattered skull, or the snapping of a broken neck; But that thing’s head simply exploded as he slammed it against the table, covering his right arm with a shower of blood, and viscera.

The familiar smell of blood flooded his nostrils, and a rush of endorphins followed, his brain rewarding him for another enemy destroyed, another kill well-earned. The smell of the crimson liquid wasn’t wholly familiar, it smelled… different. Even more bizarre than the blooded remains of the Necromorphs that he had encountered on the Ishimura. It smelled old, rotten, an undertone of sulfur also filling his nostrils.

He hummed, both in thoughtfulness and satisfaction before quickly ripping his arm free of the other chain, looking over the corpse of the fallen creature.

“Bitch.”

He rolled off the table, seeing two more of those fuckers shambling towards him. His eyes scanned over the room, seeing a discarded weapon on the floor to his left. “How fucking convenient” He grumbled to himself as he picked up the pistol, two shots ringing, and two heads exploding once more.

Izuku took his time to familiarize himself with his new weapon before he left the room, if this game was anything like the Ishimura, or hell, even Raccon City, then this pistol would be his only weapon for a long, long time.

* * *

Seeing the faded green armor-suit gave him pause. Surely, there was a caveat to this, right? There had to be.

Things were never this easy, even the armor that he had found himself wearing in the Ishimura-Even fully upgraded-had only offered minimal resistance against the blades of the Necromorphs.

This one looked… Different. The armor pieces were thicker, lustrous with a metallic sheen stifled by the colors the armor was emblazoned with. Cautiously, he approached. He kept his body as far away as he could as his calloused fingers extended, still fully expecting a trap, Izuku brushed his fingers against the chest-piece, before quickly pulling them away.

Silence. Not a whirr of machines, no trap-door being opened, nothing.

With a little more confidence, he approached, grabbing the chest piece with both hands-His mind lurched, but his body held steady, perfectly still as visions suddenly began to swim through his head.

He panted as the visions subsided, finding himself fully fitted in the armor, only missing the helmet with was now in his gloved hands. “Another Red Marker type? Fucking joy.”

But it wasn’t. Those things that the suit, or rather, the energy within the suit showed him weren’t lucid hallucinations. Blood, Chitin, Demonic Symbols that he never knew but still understood. They were visions of his objectives, visions of things to come.

With a weary sigh, he slid the helmet atop his head, hearing a distinct hiss of air, and several mechanical clicks as the helmet attached itself to the Preator Suit, seeing a faint HUD overtake his vision as the suit calibrated, fitting itself closer to his body, tightening against him to fit his frame perfectly.

A barely audible ping alerted him of the calibration process being complete, the heavy weight of the suit disappearing completely with a final click. Huh.

Izuku moved his fingers, the suit moving alongside his motions perfectly, offering no resistance. If anything, he felt oddly lighter on his feet, more energetic, too. He moved his legs, hearing the distinct sounds of metal clicking against metal-The suit was heavy, but he felt nearly weightless.

Gazing at his fingers curiously once more Izuku-

**“Welcome. I am Doctor Samuel Hayden.” **

Annoyed by the interruption, he turned his head to the display.

“**I’m the head of this facility. I think we can work to-gether-”**

Fat fucking chance, He’s already had enough of the Hidden Mastermind types, nearly all of them turned out to be traitors, or manipulators in the end. He knew better than trust to this ‘Doctor’.

“**And RE-Sollllve this problem in a way that… Bene-fits. Us. Bothhh…” **

That, and the way he spoke was just straight up fucking weird.

Izuku punched through the display, kicking it to the side, letting it shatter completely after it impacted against the floor.

“Go fuck yourself.”

He stomped on it, too, for good measure.

“Robotic sounding motherfucker.”

* * *

So, apparently, the pistol wasn’t going to be his only weapon, shortly after finding the suit, he found a fully loaded combat shotgun.

The manic grin reflected in his helmet as he gave it a test pump, finding the gun to be mechanically flawless.

He was starting to like this game.

* * *

Izuku heard it, a faint sound echoing throughout the helmet of the praetor suit, a sound that grew louder, heavier, a pleasant thundering in his ears that would echo his increasing heartbeat, a sound that would grow as adrenaline flooded his system, and his actions grew more brutal, more visceral.

A soundtrack to his slaughter.

It wasn’t long before he let himself be lost to instincts. He began to enjoy the brutal ways he dismembered and dispatch his enemies, to feel utter euphoria as he bathed in the blood of fallen demons.

Spines shattered under his grip, internal organs became nothing more than another piece of discarded viscera on the already bloodied floors, the hordes of hell were nothing more than target practice for him.

Midoriya Izuku was gone, in his place birthed a predator, an unstoppable hunter.

A **Doomslayer**.

He cackled to himself, an insane, bloodthirsty laughter. If the other games were brutal training, then this was nothing more than Catharsis; His humanity discarded as he let himself **Rip, And Tear.**

* * *


End file.
